


The Grope

by junegrass



Series: No Regrets [2]
Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Comeplay, Enthusiastic Consent, Hand Jobs, Harry Has Issues, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Oral Sex, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-14
Updated: 2015-08-14
Packaged: 2018-04-14 17:43:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4573776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junegrass/pseuds/junegrass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Eggsy. Did I say you could grab my ass?”</p><p>Harry’s cut crystal accent sounded even better when Eggsy could feel the breath behind the words. The tone was as sharp as the accent, and Eggsy could feel Harry pressed against him and everything was wonderful. But the silence stretched until it was clear the question wasn’t rhetorical.</p><p>“Well no, but I got a pretty positive response the last time I gave it a go didn’t I?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Grope

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not British and this is un-beta'd. I have an over-fondness for run-on sentences and never met a comma I didn't want to find a good home. Proceed accordingly.

Eggsy’s head was proper spinning.

He could blame the buckets of Champagne he’d been pouring down his throat all night. But it could just as easy be a lack of oxygen to the brain (a direct result of Harry snogging the fuckin’ breath right out of his lungs) or the fact that massive amounts of blood was currently rushing southward to his dick (also a result of said snog, assisted by the tuxedo clad thigh pressed up against his balls just hard enough to add a bit of pain to the pleasure).

Who’s to say? Not Eggsy. He was too busy trying to keep up with the kiss without coming in his trousers like the fuckin’ teenager Harry’d called him last week.

That had smarted a bit that had.

Just ‘cause he still liked to wear a bit of chav gear in his off hours didn’t mean he wasn’t a proper grown-up when and where it counted. He wore the classy suits and Oxfords (never brogues) and fuckin’ horn-rimmed specs like a good little guv when on duty.And the fact it was him saying it it didn’t mean it wasn’t true: he made them look _good_.

But a man should be able to wear trackies and trainers on his own time without being insulted by his boss/mentor/friend/crush-object. It weren’t his fault his first day off in three weeks got interrupted by another fuckin’ global crisis. He’d thought he’d made the right call coming straight into the shop rather than going home to fuckin’ change, but apparently His Nibs, Sir Arthur Tosspot here, disagreed.

Up to now Eggsy’d been kind of overwhelmed by the suddenness of the kiss (and the equally sudden rush of blood to his prick) and hadn’t really gotten his hands in the game. But his brain was starting to catch up to circs now and he was embarrassed to realize his hands were dangling uselessly at his sides. That was a fuckin’ waste when they could very easily be getting a nice cop of Harry’s delicious arse.

Action followed thought and he’d barely gotten a good feel of silk/wool/kevlar blend covered cheeks than Harry’d pulled some kind of advanced spy move and he found himself with his front pressed to the lav door instead of to Harry. Instead of a good solid grope his hands were clutching air, pressed to the door above his head, one of Harry’s callused palms firm around his wrists.

And he’d thought his head was spinning _before_.

“Oh god.” Well that weren’t very eloquent or original. But Harry going all domineering, well, _more_ domineering, really did it for him apparently.

“Eggsy. Did I say you could grab my ass?”

Harry’s cut crystal accent sounded even better when Eggsy could feel the breath behind the words. The tone was as sharp as the accent, and Eggsy could feel Harry pressed against him and everything was wonderful. But the silence stretched until it was clear the question wasn’t rhetorical.

“Well no, but I got a pretty positive response the last time I gave it a go didn’t I?”

Eggsy pressed back, because it felt good to him and he was hoping it felt good to Harry too.

“And you didn’t ask before you kissed me, so I figured you wasn’t too bothered with issues of consent and all. ”

And now there was no hand holding his wrists against the door, no solid length of Harry warming his back, no breath fluttering the fine hair above his ears. Just empty space behind him and that was definitely not what he wanted. He stayed where he’d been put for a mo’, hoping that Harry’d come back.

He didn’t.

Eggsy’s pleasurable Champagne buzz was ebbing by the second. And that was a fuckin’ shame. He’d worked hard to develop a taste for the stuff after training and he genuinely liked it now. The way it fizzed and made his nose tickle and softened everything. It was a classy buzz. Trackies aside, he liked classy things. He liked Harry didn’t he?

Eggsy dropped his hands, levering away from the door where Harry had shoved him. The lock was engaged. When had Harry managed that then? A surge of fondness cut its way through the lust and lingering Champagne softness.

Was just like Harry to make sure they weren’t interrupted. Not that that’d been likely. They’d both chosen the loo furthest from the ballroom. But then he’d gone and interrupted them all on his own.

Turning slowly, he leaned back against the door. Harry was standing about two feet away, and Eggsy couldn’t read the expression in his one good eye. He could read the soft redness of his mouth though, and he could still feel the phantom press of Harry’s thigh against his balls. Harry wanted him, had been on his way to having him, and something had slowed his roll.

Tonight had started as a joke. Harry’d been straightening his cuffs at the sinks when Eggsy’d finished having a slash and the Champagne had told him that instead of a nod he should give Harry a squeeze. He hadn’t meant anything by it, not really. He’d been expecting one of Harry’s fond, exasperated sighs. Maybe an eye roll if he were lucky. Harry’d surprised him with that rough kiss.

Eggsy was still working through that surprise. He was currently a little pissed and a lot muzzy-headed with lust, but he wasn’t dumb and he could see what was going on here. The thing was, he _knew_ Harry. And he knew what the next thing out of Harry’s soft red mouth was going to be.

Sure enough, the posh, domineering, manipulative motherfucker went and apologized.

***

Harry took in Eggsy leaning against the door. The fine fabric and tight cut of his trousers. The erection straining said trousers. He wasn’t hard himself, but he’d been getting there and it had been delightful.

Seriously. Consent for fuck’s sake. He’d show the irritating little bastard consent.

“I’m terribly sorry. You’re quite right. I should not have taken your hand on my cock as an invitation to kiss you.” He let his gaze linger at Eggsy’s groin. “It was clearly meant in jest and my attentions were unwanted. It was not well done of me to take advantage of you like that. I do apologize and hope it won’t interfere with our working relationship. Shall we go back to the party?”

“Hell no. You’re finishing what you started bruv.” Eggsy cupped a hand around his hard cock as if Harry needed a visual cue to catch his meaning. God but he was so _young_. This was ridiculous. They were both ridiculous.

“What _I_ started?” He’d been slightly irritated before, but had had every intention of finishing what _Eggsy_ had started. After all, he’d had nothing but his own hand since his little resurrection, and only occasional interest in that. Possibly more often on days when Eggsy had been particularly irritating … but that was neither here nor there. The point of the matter, the essential thing, was that Eggsy had groped _him_. He never would have acted on his attraction to the young man. Never. Not without encouragement.

 _Eggsy_ had started this.

But he was right about one thing. Harry would finish it. He’d had quite enough. His budding arousal was gone and in its place was a creeping exhaustion and a vague sense that he’d been foolish in a way that a lesser man would find unbearably mortifying.

Thank Christ he wasn’t a lesser man. Even so, he felt old and wanted to be home. Alone.

“Eggsy. Perhaps you’ve had too much Champagne. Or a knock to the head? Either would account for your confusion about the timeline of events. Whatever the case, I’m sure that I couldn’t possibly take advantage of you in circumstances that have left you so befuddled.” He even sounded old he thought distantly, closing the distance between them as he spoke until he could gently pull Eggsy away from the door with a hand on his elbow.

At least, that’s what he intended to do. But Eggsy’s solid little body seemed to have attained the density of granite and the reasonably graceful exit Harry had intended for both of them from this moment of lost potential was apparently not going to be an option.

He wanted out. Of this situation, this bathroom, his whole second chance at life some days.

“Eggsy, dear boy, given your earlier confusion I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that this too has escaped you. But you’re standing in front of the door and you’ll need to move before we can leave. Do you need help getting _out of my fucking way?”_

Giving a little shake of his head, Eggsy gracefully dropped to his knees, sitting back on his heels on the tiled floor before swaying forward, his breath ghosting across Harry’s groin for a few silent seconds before he looked up.

“Don’t want to move Harry. Don’t want to leave neither.”

Eggsy closed his eyes and sighed as Harry rested his hand gently on his head. Eggsy’s hair was short and silky between his fingers.

Well then. Perhaps there was still some potential in the evening after all.

“What _do_ you want?”

Eggsy looked up at him, then down, his mouth open, breathing hot and wet against the fabric over Harry’s still-soft cock, before he looked back up.

His hair was too short to grip, so Harry moved one hand to the back of Eggsy’s neck and held tight. A sharp tug and Eggsy’s head was tipped back even further, mouth still open. Keeping one hand holding Eggsy’s neck, he placed his other palm over Eggsy’s vulnerable throat, giving it the softest squeeze before pulling back and tapping his knuckles against his Adam’s apple.

He left them there, feeling Eggsy swallow.

“No Eggsy. Use your words. I know you can.”

“Wanna suck your dick Harry. Wanna make you come.”

“Do you really?”

Eggsy pulled a little against the hold on his neck and Harry, instinctively, gripped harder, keeping his head at that slightly awkward angle. Eggsy’s eyes widened then his lids began to drift shut.

“Yeah Harry. Can I?”

Experimentally, Harry tugged sharply and felt as well as heard Eggsy’s breath catch before he whispered, “Please.”

Oh dear lord. Harry moved Eggsy’s head back to his groin and widened his stance a bit before placing his hands on either side of Eggsy’s head, thumbs stroking those lovely cheekbones.

“Well. I suppose you can try.”

At that, Eggsy gave him a little smirk.

“Try? Jesus Harry. I can do better than that.”

Harry raised an eyebrow and pushed Eggsy in the proper direction.

“Can you? Well, get on with it then. Show me.”

Eggsy placed a chaste kiss to the bulge that was beginning to press against his flies, but instead of getting on with it Eggsy looked up at him, smiled, and asked, “Can I use my hands now then?”

Harry hadn’t realized until that moment that Eggsy hadn’t. That since Harry’d removed Eggsy’s hands from his ass, except for that brief kiss to his clothed cock, Eggsy hadn’t touched him at all.

Oh that did it. That bloody well did it. He hadn’t gotten hard this quickly in years. He was quite pleased with his body for that. Good job circulatory system. Despite preliminary reports we’re not dead yet. Kudos.

But all he said was, “Yes Eggsy, you may.”

***

Eggsy loosened the death grip he’d had on his thighs at that.

Hallefuckinbloodyluja.

He’d been off-balance since Harry’d pulled him into that snog He’d done the wrong thing and said the wrong thing over and over … well, “wrong” in the sense that it’d made Harry want to fuckin’ _leave_.

But it wasn’t a mystery really. He’d fucked up by treating this like any encounter with a bloke in a bog. Things had turned around as soon as he’d remembered this was _Harry_. Perfectionist. Control-freak. Harry fuckin’ Hart.

The perfectionism wasn’t a surprise, and the control-freakiness wasn’t really either. He’d always had boundaries, but he’d been different since Tennessee and Eggsy could bloody murder himself for forgetting that.

But whatev. Heat of the mo. Mistakes were made.

The important thing was that they were on the same page now and he wasn’t bloody well likely to forget again. Not with the incentives Harry was giving him to get it right.

Incentive number one was right there in front of his face, tenting Harry’s trousers and making Eggsy’s mouth water. Because honestly, now that his brain was back online, and he wasn’t just thinking with his prick, he wasn’t terribly bothered about getting himself off. But to get Harry off? Yes. Please. He wanted to see that. Wanted to be responsible for it. But he didn’t want to rush things now that they were here.

Despite the permission Harry’d given to use them, Eggsy kept his hands on his thighs for a tick longer, and just … rubbed his face all over the front of Harry’s trousers. Feeling the fine fabric stretched tight over Harry’s hard dick with his nose and cheeks and chin. Harry moved his own hands out of Eggsy’s way and let him, but when Eggsy felt Harry’s hand back in his hair, the short nails scratching his scalp and making his skin come all over goose flesh, he knew it was time to move things along.

His hands were shaking just a mite as he undid Harry’s flies. He pulled them out of the way and then couldn’t resist leaning in again and nosing the soft cotton of Harry’s pants. He could smell the slight musk of Harry now and the scent shot straight to his own dick and suddenly he didn’t want to draw this out anymore.

He wanted to get Harry off hard and fast and dirty.

He didn’t bother pulling down Harry’s pants, just reached in and drew out his dick. Unsurprisingly it was gorgeous. Not overly long but a proper handful, straight and thick and veiny, the smooth red head peeking out of the foreskin. It was dry still, but Eggsy fixed that with a swirl of his tongue, a quick sloppy suck of the head before he pressed his tongue into the slit, giving that thick shaft a soft pump as he did, mindful of the drag of his dry hand on the sensitive skin.

Then he just went for it, pushing himself down on Harry’s dick, opening his throat and swallowing him until his nose was pressed against the cotton of his pants and there was nothing but Harry. His mouth and throat full of him, Harry’s strong, callused hands holding his head,his scent filling his nostrils. Eggsy swallowed around him, feeling the softness of his throat working against the hardness of Harry’s dick and heard Harry groan and Eggsy wanted to hear it again.

He pulled back slowly and opened his eyes, looking up at Harry from beneath his lashes. He swirled his tongue around the head, pushing under the foreskin and sucking gently like it was his favorite sweet.

That was just a metaphor. Harry’s dick tasted like dick but lucky for both of them dick was a flavor Eggsy fancied.

Eggsy’s hands had gone back to his thighs when he’d started swallowing in earnest, but keeping eye contact Eggsy reached one back into the slit of Harry’s pants to grab his balls. They were heavy in his hand and hot and he rolled them gently as he kept up the soft, sloppy suction around the head. His chin was wet with it. He held Harry’s eye, waiting for him to take over. He started to move down again but pulled back before Harry’d reached the back of his throat.

Harry let him pull back, let him pull off entirely, so he did. Eggsy twisted in Harry’s hands until his cheek was resting against Harry’s spit-covered dick, rasping against it with the slight stubble, keeping eye contact all the while.

“You can do it you know. I want you to.”

“What can I do Eggsy?” Harry’s voice was so fuckin’ sweet. His face was soft like Eggsy’d never really seen it, and Eggsy wanted to give him the bloody world. Well, the world wasn’t Eggsy’s to give, but this was in his brief.

Eggsy gave him his cheekiest grin, which was pretty fuckin’ cheeky if he did say so.

“Fuck my face Harry.”

Harry’s eye closed and his head dropped back and he just breathed for a tick, one thumb absently caressing Eggsy’s cheekbone, before looking down at him again.

“Darling boy. What a marvelous suggestion. I do believe I will.”

His hands back on his thighs, Eggsy let Harry move his head back around. He gave Harry’s dick one close-mouthed kiss before he stretched up to get his mouth back around the head and then sat back on his heels and looked up at him, the tip of Harry’s dick resting hard against his tongue, his mouth soft and open. Ready.

Harry pushed in just an inch or so then drew one finger to the corner of Eggsy’s mouth, pushing inside and feeling his tongue, his teeth.

Eggsy couldn’t help it. He sucked. Harry pulled his finger out and Eggsy let his mouth slacken again, waiting.Harry’s hands were firm against his cheeks, holding him just where he wanted him and they were off.

Things after that were a bit of a blur to be honest. All oxygen depletion and tears and saliva dripping off his chin as Harry battered his throat and Eggsy swallowed and choked and came in his pants with his dick untouched a few seconds before Harry groaned and pulled out of his mouth and came on his face.

Eggsy blinked his eyes open and caught the last spurt on his tongue.

Harry looked down at him with something approaching awe on his face. “

That is a brilliant look on you.”

Eggsy blinked, and rubbed his eyes, trying to get the come out of his lashes and coughed, trying to clear his throat. His voice still came out scratchy when he said, “Covered in come you mean?”

If anything Harry looked even more gone when he heard the roughness and Eggsy liked _that_ look on _him_.

“That’s exactly what I mean.”

Eggsy carefully tucked Harry’s softening dick away and gave it an affectionate little pat when it was safely tidied. With his flies done back up Harry looked as smart as when they’d started while Eggsy was a right fuckin’ mess.

He was well chuffed that Harry was happy, but bleedin’ hell how the fuck was he supposed to leave the bathroom looking like a well-used rent boy? He couldn’t stop blinking and Harry pulled him to his feet and manhandled him over to the sinks.

“Though I think you’re lovely like this, you’re really not fit for company are you.”

“Ta, Harry. Got that. Think I can just wait here until the party’s over? It’s got to be winding down right?”

“I’d think so. But let’s see about cleaning you up a bit shall we?”

Instead of taking one of the rough towels that posh places used instead of sensible paper to his face, which Eggsy’d been half expecting, Harry unfastened Eggsy’s trousers and pulled them down to his ankles.

“Step out.”

Eggsy toed off his shoes, smiling at Harry’s grumpy look at that and did as ordered. He kept smiling as Harry put his eye to his trousers and gave the verdict, “Not too horrible, only a small spot. This fabric really is miraculous. Though they’ve gone a bit baggy at the knee.”

Harry gave him another dirty look at that.

Eggsy laughed. “Worth it though wasn’t it?”

“Quite. The pants are a complete loss. Take them off.”

Eggsy’s laugh turned to a snort. Harry’d said pants.

“Eggsy.” Oh that tone meant business, so he did as told and found himself standing in front of a fully dressed Harry Hart with his bollocks blowing in the breeze, his dick soft and covered in his own cold come, socks, shirt and jacket still on.

He felt vulnerable in a way he hadn’t when he’d been desperate to breathe, choking on Harry’s dick. Even though he’d just had a blinding orgasm a few minutes ago, his dick gave a little twitch.

Eggsy was learning all kinds of shite about himself tonight wasn’t he?

And in yet another move he hadn’t seen coming Harry fuckin’ Hart dropped to his bloody knees and looked up at him.

“May I?”

In his shock, Eggsy told the truth.

“Yes. Anything. You can do anything Harry.”

Harry gave him the sweetest smile, truly, and then he gently held Eggsy’s soft dick as he began cleaning it with his ruddy tongue. He was thorough and it was filthy and Eggsy was still sensitive from his orgasm and it was too much. He started, slowly, to get hard and Harry just hummed and kept licking until, apparently, he was satisfied that Eggsy’s dick was clean.

Then he unbuttoned the bottom of Eggsy’s shirt, pushed the tails aside, and started in on his stomach. It tickled and felt odd and delicious and Harry was still absently holding Eggsy’s dick. He wasn’t really doing anything with it, he didn’t seem like he was _trying_ to get Eggsy hard again. It was more like he was holding it because it was there so he might as well and then his thumb started playing with the foreskin as he licked drying come from Eggsy’s belly button. Again, it didn’t seem purposeful really, more like someone playing with a pen at his desk. But as said pen, Eggsy was enjoying the absent-minded touches more than some blow jobs he’d received.

And wasn’t that fuckin’ weird.

When every trace of come was gone, Harry firmly pushed Eggsy’s semi up against his now clean stomach, and started in on his balls. And then his semi wasn’t a semi it was a hard-on and Eggsy began to pant softly.

His prick was trapped between Harry’s callused palm and his own stomach and if he thrust, just a little, and Harry didn’t move his hand, or maybe even just pushed a little more firmly, he could get some friction, and he really fuckin’ wanted some friction on his dick right fuckin’ now.

As an experiment like, to see what would happen, Eggsy shifted his hips the slightest bit. And it felt good, it did, but it wasn’t nothing like enough and Harry stopped what he’d been doing.Which, for the record, was sucking on the patch of skin between his balls.

Eggsy was going to call this experiment a failure.

Harry didn’t move his hand though. And he didn’t pull away. He looked up inquiringly, and Eggsy was suddenly aware that his face was covered in dried spit and Harry’s come and he was still wearing a bowtie and his fuckin’ socks while he panted like he was gagging for it. Because he was.

He went red all over with blushing and his dick gave a little twitch. Helplessly, he gave a harder thrust while Harry knelt at his feet and watched, unmoving and seemingly unmoved.

His voice dry as anything, Harry asked, “Did you want something?”

In the time Harry’d been softly licking at him like a cat, Eggsy’d gone from comfortably sated to mildly aroused to bloody desperate and he wasn’t fooling no one here, least of all Harry. Dignity had stopped being an option for him about the same time he’d drunkenly groped Harry’s dick and now all he wanted was to come. Again. This time with something other than his pants touching his prick.

He waved a cheery goodbye to dignity. It could fuck itself in the arse. This was better. Harry touching him was better.

“I want to come Harry. I want you to make me come. Please.”

He was shifting restlessly now, thrusting shallowly into the hot space between Harry’s palm and his own abs. The dry friction was good, but not enough.

“Alright Eggsy.” Harry’s smile was fond as he shifted his hands to Eggsy’s hips and used them as leverage to pull himself to standing. He was so close he barely had to lean in at all to give Eggsy a kiss. Not a proper snog, just a soft brush of his lips before he stepped back enough to spin Eggsy around so he was facing the mirror, Harry, infuriatingly tall, a long line of heat at his back.

Now he wasn’t just imagining the mess he must look, he saw it. Saw what Harry had been seeing this whole time. Come already drying to flakes in his lashes and on his cheeks, lips red and swollen and thoroughly fucked. Hair standing up in short sweaty spikes.

Harry’s cheek was resting against the side of his head, and his eyes were hot, taking in the picture they made: Harry as impeccable as always, Eggsy half-dressed and completely undone. Eggsy could feel the wool of Harry’s trousers against his bare arse, but nothing touched his dick but air. He watched a drop of precome well up from his slit and was so turned on by it all he might’ve whimpered. Just a bit. Not loud or nothing, but fuck. Who could blame him?

Not Harry. At the sound, he licked the shell of Eggsy’s ear and reached around and started jacking Eggsy’s dick with one hand and fondling his balls with the other. There was nothing soft or uncertain about it. He just went for it. Grip tight and dry and almost painful as he worked him over.

It was perfect.

Eggsy watched Harry’s hands on him until, embarrassingly quickly given he’d just come his brains out, he came all over the sink and Harry’s hand with another whimper.

No use frontin’ about it it. It was a whimper and that was just the truth.

Harry worked him through it and the aftershocks fuckin’ _hurt_ his dick was so raw and sensitive. From coming twice in such a short time and the licking and the rough, dry handy. But Harry kept at it until there was nothing left and Eggsy didn’t stop him. Didn’t want to lose Harry’s arms around him or his hands on his most vulnerable bits.

Harry didn’t let go when he finally stopped stroking, just held Eggsy’s dick until it was soft again, absently rubbing the patch of skin between his balls with his other hand.

When Eggsy was fully soft, Harry lifted the hand that had jacked him to Eggsy’s mouth. Kinky fucker. That’s alright then. Eggsy didn’t mind. He cleaned Harry’s hand with his tongue as Harry continued to play, absent-minded like, with the skin of his balls.

They watched themselves in the mirror and god help him, Eggsy wasn’t going to be any less thorough than Harry’d been.

It was nice. He could maybe see what Harry’d got out of it. After a while it was almost meditative.

Eventually Harry pulled his hand away from Eggsy’s mouth and broke the little trance Eggsy’d fallen into. For a second he felt almost lost without something to lick.

Turns out Eggsy was a kinky fucker too.

“Thank you Eggsy.”

“Thank _you_ Harry.”

Harry didn’t move away though. He just reached around Eggsy for one of the towels, fuckin’ _finally._ Kinks was kinks and all well and good, but dried come was itchy and now that he wasn’t busy being out of his fuckin’ mind with lust it was getting unpleasant. Harry gently cleaned his face, while Eggsy leaned back against him. Harry was strong. He could hold him up for a mo. The two orgasms were catching up with him and he was knackered. He just wanted to curl up somewhere and sleep for a day or so.

As he was thinking that Harry, contrary fucker, stepped back and Eggsy stumbled.

“Steady on. Time to dress.”

He did, Harry watching him tuck himself away. The soft wool felt rough on his sensitive prick and like silk on his bare arse as he bent over to put on his shoes. He liked it and was vaguely wondering if he shouldn’t just stop wearing pants altogether, or if that might get awkward around the shop when he straightened to see Harry still watching him.

“Don’t even think of making this a regular thing Eggsy.”

“What?”

Had Harry read his mind about the pants or was he saying this was a one-off? Either would be a shame but he knew which one would be worse.

“Pants Eggsy. A gentleman does not forego pants unless they ruin the line of his trousers. And rwith our access to tailoring and proper undergarments I expect that to be a rare thing indeed.”

Thank god. Just a mind-reader then.

“Well don’t make me come in them then.”

Harry looked speculative. “I rather liked that though. Perhaps I should just make you wear them home next time.”

“There going to be a next time then?”

“Would you like there to be?”

Eggsy rolled his eyes. “Yes, Harry.”

“Well, then I imagine the occasion will arise.” Another eye roll seemed appro there, so Eggsy gave himself free reign.

Harry unlocked the door and waved Eggsy ahead of him.

“Enjoy the rest of your evening, Eggsy.”

“Ta Harry. You too.”

That was it then. Eggsy didn’t feel like going back to the party so he turned right toward an exit he’d spotted earlier. He couldn’t hear Harry behind him and it took everything in him not to turn and watch him walk away. Not a one-off. Not a one-off. Harry wanted to do this again.

Thank fuckin’ Christ.

  


  



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